


Things To Be Mended

by VaultEscapeArtist



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, snippits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultEscapeArtist/pseuds/VaultEscapeArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippits surrounding Waylon Park's recovery after the events of Whistleblower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Things To Be Mended**

Outlast Waylon Park/ Eddie Gluskin

**A/N:** _Just finished playing the Whistleblower DLC and have to say while it terrified me and Gluskin disturbed me on a deep, psychological level, I actually quite enjoyed it. I will write this until I get tired of it._

* * *

 

 

He's become a kleptomaniac. The Park household (or rather what his family is now forced to call 'home' while on the run from the damn Murkoff Corporation) is filled with drawer upon drawer of batteries. Double A's, Triple A's, even those expensive rechargeable ones that can plug into the wall. It drives Lisa mad. Perhaps the stockpiling of batteries wouldn't have been an issue if she knew why. If he could explain what that asylum had done to him, what the doctors had done to him, what the inmates... She has so many questions for him. The people that put him into a sort of makeshift witness protection gave her (against his wishes) a basic understanding of what the Morphogenic Engine hoped to accomplish.

Lisa has no idea of what occurred after. Waylon intends that she never will.

 

 

_Darling._

Waylon's frozen. He knows it's only his wife watching one of her period pieces, that Pride & Prejudice shit, and she had the volume turned up too high again. Some quiet, logical part that had been eaten away by that fucking place, tells him that it isn't him. It's just some pompous Britt on the television, trying to woo someone in one too many skirts.

_Darling!_

Lisa finds him later, hiding underneath their bed. He's fallen asleep and mutters, “please, don't, please” in between panicked breaths.

 

He starts to go to therapy. He hates it.

Waylon's had more than enough of doctors and clean, white rooms that so easily could be painted in red.

So he's surprised when one of her “coping mechanisms” actually helps. It involves using his laptop which has always brought him a sort of calm, focus. As she instructs, Waylon writes about Murkoff and Mount Massive Asylum and stops his retelling at the first time he met (in person-video chat evidently didn't count) Jeremy Blair. The first time he's been committed. After spell-check and a few grammatical corrections, Waylon goes back to her office to show off his good work.

Typing out his aggressions allows him another media to attempt to deal with what had happened to him besides going over that damn footage like his therapist had first suggested. After she reads his paper his therapist questions why he wrote mainly about the Murkoff Corporation and not about any of the individuals involved.

“Now,” she lisps, shuffling through his papers and arranging them out of order, “your relationship with inmate Eddie Gluskin, now that's interesting.”

Waylon learns (mostly through snooping) that she's using him to write a book.

It's his last session.

 

His sons (with the help of their grandfather) buy him a cane to help with his limp. It secretly doubles as a sword and they play pirates and jedi knights until mom comes home.

The cane goes into storage.

 

Black vans come for them a few nights later. It could have been Murkoff, but it isn't. Their little on the run family has to be moved again. Waylon makes the snap decision to split up, Lisa and the kids one way and he in the other. Lisa screams at him, but their mysterious saviors agree and his eldest son won't look at him as they drive away.

The youngest won't stop crying.

 

He lives alone in his new house for three months before Lisa is brave enough to call him, voice shaking as she tells him that she met someone.

Waylon asks to speak to the kids.

 

His protection from Murkoff (he doesn't know who they are and he wants to keep it that way for as long as possible) tells him that they are other survivors from Mount Massive Asylum. Waylon only bitterly informs them that no one survives that place.

But one did.

_“Darling.”_


	2. Alterations

**Alterations**

**Outlast**

 

Breathe.

 _Breathe_.

He can't. Not with _him_ so damn close.

“He died,” Waylon thinks until it becomes his mantra. “I saw him die and I _laughed_.”

He winces as his former therapist rubs small circles into his back and tries to calm him. Why is she still here? Waylon clearly recalls firing her. “We have him fully restrained, Mr. Park. He can't get to you.”

Oh, this is so familiar. He can see there's a few men trying to sedate Gluskin but this time there's no bulletproof glass between them.

 _Idiots_ , he wants to scream but Waylon finds he cannot speak. His tongue is swollen and thick and dry. He is afraid. He wants to, he so sorely wishes to cry out. To scream. To accuse. And he cannot.

Instead he cowers, backing up until he hits a wall with a satisfying thump. The good doctor is watching him closely now. She'd be taking notes if it wasn't in such poor taste.

“He's going through therapy, same as you.”

Oh, God, he hopes not the same as him. Eddie Gluskin was fucked up long before Murkoff found him. Trying to save someone like that after they went through the Morphogenic engine? It was hopeless, but more than that it was _stupid_.

 _Why would you save him?Why did you bring him into my home?_ His voice comes back as a whisper and nothing more. “Why?”

“I believed you needed to face him so that you could get over this fear--”

_I did face him. I killed him._

He pressed against the wall at every movement Eddie makes. “Why are you here? I told you--”

“I'm afraid that your therapy is non-negotiable.” She didn't sound very sorry at all. “If you're going to have twenty-four hour protection we need to know that you don't pose a threat to our agents.”

Were they serious? “But why is he _here_?” It comes out as a whine; Waylon can't help it.

“Mr. Gluskin needs protection, too.”

 

He has four locks on his door. His front door. His bedroom door has seven.

Of course, locks don't make much of a difference when someone can simply break the door down. And Waylon knew from experience that Eddie Gluskin is more than capable of that.

He's going to have to run. Waylon can't live with Eddie Gluskin being locked up in the spare bedroom downstairs. It doesn't matter that the man was given enough tranquilizers to knock out a horse. He cannot live in this house.

 

He makes it to the front gate. Waylon opted to leave the car knowing the people protecting him would have installed a tracking device.

He makes it to the front gate before the black van parked across the street opens up its doors and two agents start making their way towards him. One is shaking their head. Quickly turning on his heel, Waylon slips back inside the house. He watches from a window as the agents stare back at him for a minute before returning to their van.

Waylon dumps his backpack on the kitchen floor and leaves it there.

 

He calls Lisa. She doesn't answer, but he gets a text back with promises to call later.

 

Waylon doesn't eat the day Eddie wakes up. He can hear shuffling in the spare room while he's in the kitchen and his appetite is killed instantly. He knows he needs to eat. He's too thin already and still recovering. But food refuses to stay down when Waylon knows Eddie is awake and oh, so close.

The camera is cracked in multiple places but the night vision still works. And the batteries are charged.

 


End file.
